In My Dream Home

When I move out and have my own house on my own land. It’s a time I picture often, maybe more often than I would admit out loud. I already have a plot of land that I take care of and pay the taxes on, and it’s more than I thought I would have at this time two years ago. However, the house that I want to one day have on that land and what I want to grow on that land doesn’t exist quite yet, but it’s only a dream or a couple of years away....

When I close my eyes and imagine my home, I can see myself stepping into a foyer with light blue walls and a soft, beige carpet, perfect for walking around barefoot on. From there I can hang my coat on the coat rack and walk into my living room. This room has a fireplace off on the wall that I face as I walk in with a widescreen television attached to the wall above it. The couch and the recliners on either side of it are a reddish brown, and look as if they would swallow you whole once you sat in it. They are positioned to surround the television and fireplace, with a coffee table as the centerpiece.

I then make my way into the kitchen. The walls are no longer the calming light blue from the foyer and living room, but a gentle pastel yellow. The hardwood floors are also light in color, giving a calm, yet energetic feel to the kitchen. The countertops are of the smoothest marble, and while the black oven may be the darkest piece of furniture in the room, you can tell that it is where the true magic happens. The smell of baked bread and pumpkin pie fills the air, and the rolls are in the oven, as Thanksgiving is in mere hours. The cinnamon and pumpkin smell can be found wafting from the center of the island, as the pie itself sits and cools off, waiting to be covered and protected from whatever might have flown in behind me from my outside endeavors.

As the pie is still fairly hot and the rolls still have time to cook, I venture my way through the hall that leads to the guest room, my study, and the guest bathroom.

First, I peer into the guest room and make sure that I didn’t miss anything while cleaning. The bed is covered with a burgundy blanket and made as though it were a bed in a hotel, which I admit, took quite a bit of practice to get right. The walls are an off white color and the carpet is a slate gray. Normally, I would have chosen happier colors, but as this was the guest room, I knew that my friends and family had a variety of taste as far as a color palette go, so I went with something that was as generic as I could think of.

Satisfied that the room was clean, I go to inspect the guest bathroom. The main concern in here was dust, as was in the bedroom. I had done a fairly good job in cleaning, however, so I had little to do. The walls were, again, an off white, and the tiles were designed to look almost like rocks had been plucked from a riverbank and carefully pieced together like a puzzle on the floor, yet when you walked on it the floor was perfectly flat and smooth. The sink sat in the center of the marble counter with a faucet that went straight up then curved over into the bowl and the valves being a lever on each side. The hand towel hung from a ring to the right and the soap dispenser held the tangerine colored soap on the left corner of the counter. The curtains, a gradient of blue fading into white, covered the bathtub and shower well. This was fine, as I had the best features on display and hadn’t thought much about how good the shower was going to look yet.

Once again satisfied with what I saw, I took a peek into my study. It was nothing fancy by any means, just a bedroom that I put a desk and a few wooden bookshelves into. The walls and carpet were the same as the guest bedroom, and the desk had an appearance like mahogany. I cringed a little bit as I saw that I had left the notebooks that I was writing in scattered over the top, so I walked over and stacked them up neatly.

While there, I saw my dog wag her tail and look up at me, expectantly waiting the attention she deserved.I stacked the notebooks neatly and scratched under her chin, then spared a glance over to the window. This window gave an excellent view of where my garden is. In the summer, I could look out and see the vegetables in their various stages of ripening mixed with the blooms of those that have yet to begin to take their final form. However, as it was deep into autumn, all that could be seen was the tan and brown grass surrounding a barren patch of the red dirt that was so commonly found here, illuminated by the setting sun.

I smiled at the thought of what I could grow in the spring when the sound of the oven timer pierced through the then silent air. I quickly walked back into the kitchen, grabbed my oven mitts, opened the oven door, and pulled the rolls out and onto the stove. By now, the pie was cool enough to cover, so I wrapped it in aluminum foil and placed it back on the island so I wouldn’t forget it when I left to go to my parents’ house in the morning.

I checked my clock and saw that I still had some time before my little sister arrived, so I stepped off in the direction of the master bedroom to get to my shower.

I took a few liberties with my bedroom, as I would be the only one sleeping in it. The walls were lavender, and the carpeting was a midnight blue. There was a large dog bed for my little fur baby at the foot of my bed, but the fur on the navy comforter of my queen sized bed told the story of my very spoiled dog. The dresser to the side of the room was made of the same, dark-colored wood that my desk was made of and was placed beside the walk in closet that contained only scrubs for when I would pick up shifts as a nursing assistant and a couple of dresses for the occasion that I would go to hang out with friends, one of which was ready for tomorrow.

I walked into my bathroom where the walls were a light blue and the floors were the same as the guest room. The curtain, which was a gradient fading from dark purple to lavender, was opened, revealing the walk in shower with the shower head coming from the ceiling, imitating a pleasant summer rain when the water was turned on. Off to the side was a jacuzzi-like bathtub, perfect for a tall woman like myself to lay back and soak in. It made me think of the pool I had off in the back yard in what appeared to be a greenhouse, connected by a hallway from the back foyer. Maybe I would heat it up and take a swim in it this weekend.

After my shower and covering the rolls, my sister arrived. We had a pleasant conversation in the living room, each of us in one of the plush recliners, put all of the food we had made either on the island or in the silver fridge that resided in the corner, and went off to bed for the night, excited for tomorrow.

As I open my eyes, I find myself still living in my parent’s house, hiding in the air conditioning from a southern August’s heat, my dream home still quite a ways away. Some day, perhaps, I can have the home of my dreams, with the comforts that I seek.